


Forever is a Word that Cries

by waltzalascherzo



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Cartinelli - Fandom, MCU
Genre: Cartinelli - Freeform, F/F, F/M, all those painful head canons? They're here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 21:14:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3425831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waltzalascherzo/pseuds/waltzalascherzo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: There come moments in our lives that appear innocuous but wind up making the deepest etches into our heart. Peggy Carter and Angie Martinelli met one day and neither could predict the ramifications of that encounter for the rest of their lives. (Begins post episode 3 of Agent Carter "Schnapps & Rhubarb Pie" scene)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever is a Word that Cries

**Author's Note:**

> Summary: There come moments in our lives that appear innocuous but wind up making the deepest etches into our heart. Peggy Carter and Angie Martinelli met one day and neither could predict the ramifications of that encounter for the rest of their lives. (Begins post episode 3 of Agent Carter “Schnapps & Rhubarb Pie” scene)
> 
> Warning: Major character death, sexual situations, mild violence, mental control 
> 
> Peggy/Angie, Peggy/Steve, Peggy &Angie, Angie &Steve, Angie&Jarvis, Steve, Howard, Jarvis, Dottie, Mafia!Angie, tinkering with what happens to Peggy at Winter Soldier, all those painful head canons? They’re here. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Agent Character or any characters within. This story is for entertainment purposes only and not for profit.
> 
> Thanks to this fandom <3

 

* * *

 

 “Jeeze, English, it looks like you haven’t had an hour to relax for ages.”

Peggy starts when Angie speaks up. The glass of schnapps in her hand and the plate which previously housed a rather scrumptious slice of rhubarb pie still balanced neatly on her kneecaps. Somehow, those weights and the shift of Angie next to her shoulder had lulled Peggy into a daze. “Perhaps it has been,” she murmurs as she takes another sip from her glass.

Angie makes an exaggerated face that nearly has Peggy snorting into her drink. “I guess the phone company is serious business,” she drops her voice and waggles her fingers and the phrase combined with her face force Peggy to swish the schnapps in her mouth instead of spitting it out and oh, that was a dreadful plan all around. “Don’t choke,” Angie immediately starts patting Peggy’s back and her fingertips leave a hot trail along Peggy’s spine and now was definitely the time to depart.

“Thank you for the schnapps and pie,” Peggy nearly shakes as she rises from the bed. “I must be off to bed.”

“Already? It’s barely 8 on a Saturday! C’mon, let’s put on some tunes and dance a little!”

“ _Saturday. 8 o’clock._ ”

The clench in her stomach prevents the lump in Peggy’s throat from reaching her eyes. She cranes her head a little to glance at Angie over her shoulder. The younger woman’s curls have flattened a little from her head making various contact with the pillow and Peggy’s shoulders. They seem more gentle and natural, capturing the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Puppies have less wounded looks than the one Angie is shooting her now. A dance couldn’t hurt.

But it can. Any extra time and getting any closer will only make the inevitable crash that much worse.

Colleen.

Yet if Peggy had spent any extra time, perhaps Colleen would…

Chances slipped away between moments fast and unassuming. “I suppose I’ve a dance in me,” Peggy concedes and can’t fight the grin at Angie’s infectious joy and the way it fills her face, as if it were the very blood inside her. It was a fundamental difference between her and Angie. Angie let her joy bubble up from her heart. The way it traveled from inside and filled her entire body slowly like the breath and blood beneath her happily carried that feeling across it. It was like a sunrise and it never ceased to amaze Peggy.

Angie busies herself fiddling with the radio and Peggy sets down the dishes, swigging back the last of the schnapps. She turns back with a cordoned off affection in her chest and reminds herself of who she is and her purpose and then, once more, that she is here for herself and Angie and extends a hand for Angie to take. “Aren’t you proper,” Angie mumbles, cheeks tinged with a pink as soft as the blanket draped across Peggy’s bed and the memories woven into it. She grins up at Peggy and swings their hands back and forth in a mimicry of the newest dancing fad and laughter bubbles between them and one dance turns into two, then three.

Peggy glances at the clock and the weariness finally starts to seep in her. “Angie, it’s nearing curfew…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Angie whispers back as her head lolls forward into Peggy’s shoulder.

It’s a surprise that she doesn’t flinch at the first contact, much less tenses up the closer Angie gets to her. Her arms dip lower and she cautiously holds the edges of Angie’s waist as the other woman haphazardly drapes her arms around Peggy’s neck and nestles her head into the juncture of Peggy’s neck and shoulder. Strangely enough it brings comfort and vulnerability and the combination makes Peggy heady with fear and euphoria.

One last dance, she tells herself, she can get through this last dance. She can take care of Angie and put her to bed and tomorrow will be fine and tonight will be fine and _she_ will be fine. Fine like the heat and heartbeats shared between their bodies and how Peggy can barely ascertain what the song playing actually is because all she can hear is her own breathing, deep and soothing, a stark contrast of what is trying to claw at the inside of her head.

This night was endless and that thought made it easier to push away the other rampant ones.

Easier to wind her hands the rest of the way around Angie’s waist and hold her up as she falls asleep in the dance and for those moments it’s simple and right to imagine nights like this that stretch further than her mind can reach.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The pounding in Angie’s head wasn’t too awful. Nausea? No problem. Fever? No sweat. It was the tripping over the very ground as she placed her feet over the bed that did her in. So the dizziness was unexpected and Angie may be dying a little and not getting paid but hey at least she don’t have to deal with a bunch of jerks eyeing her behind and being a bunch of crass bums.

She does feel upset about missing her end of shift chat with English, though. This last week she’s made a habit of coming to see Angie after her shift and sort of talking about her day. Sometimes she doesn’t have a lot to say and Angie can tell it’s hard for her to talk even when there’s a lot lurking in that pretty head of hers. There’s always something guarded about her eyes. Angie knows it’s something real tough when Peggy completely goes prim and proper English; her whole body stiffens and that chin juts out like she’s some little tyke who learned how to properly use words.

Not like you’re much better now, Angie tells herself, even after conking out in bed after heroically managing to telephone the diner in her raspy death rattle voice.

Maybe she should try to talk more and use it at her next audition! Yeah, that’d be swell, show them that Angie Martinelli can be all sultry too.

Coughing is pretty unattractive when she tries to laugh, it really sounds like she’s an old model Ford trying to start up. It eventually goes away with a glass of water and maybe a few cross-eyed rolls of her head and she’s about to start drifting off again when she hears a thunderous pounding coming up the stairs.

Oh, man, no matter the emergency, whatever poor sap is making such a racket is gonna get their ears boxed at the very least.

Angie nearly falls off her bed when Peggy Carter busts down the door like Captain America does in his serial radio program that she hates so much. Peggy’s eyes are wild and she looks frantic and ready to tear someone apart.

It’s simultaneously frightening and thrilling.

(Either way the racing in Angie’s chest fells a heck of a lot different when Peggy’s eyes find hers.)

“You’re okay,” Peggy breathes out, relief sagging her shoulders.

“Just a little cold won’t hurt anyone,” Angie replies as Peggy visibly composes herself. She suddenly seems to remember that she made a ruckus and quickly shuts the door as quietly as possible and hesitantly steps closer to the bed. “Good idea, don’t want you getting contaminated too, English,” Angie grins as Peggy haltingly makes her way closer. “Hey, are you doing okay? You don’t look so well,” she says as she looks closer at Peggy. She looks so pale and scared.

“You weren’t at the diner,” Peggy starts to explain. “Your supervisor commented that it didn’t really sound like you on the phone, so I…” she leads off and is looking away from Angie, back to the door, the ground, the lump of blankets at Angie’s feet before finally bringing her eyes to Angie’s and, golly, she manages not to gasp at the look English was focusing on her. “…I had to make sure you…”and she stops, unable or unwilling to continue.

“It’ll take a lot more than a sick day to get rid of me,” Angie assures and a slight shudder passes through her body and now Angie is scared, too. “Hey, Pegs, it’s okay, I’m okay, really. I missed ya too,” with a slight smile, she sits up and pats the end of her bed. “I wouldn’t say no if you still wanted to tell me about your day, if you don’t mind that I could drop back to dreamland soon.”

Peggy bites the inside of her lip gently and sits down by end of the bed. Angie nudges her with her foot a bit until the bottom of Peggy’s lips downturn and make their way up, when she tries not to smile but can’t help it, anyway. “Your favourite jerk was lamenting not seeing you.”

A giggle crawls its way up Angie’s throat and it sounds more like gargling. She tells Peggy so and English lets out one of those dumb breathy laughs that make Angie tingly all over.

“There we go. See, you don’t need a shield all the time,” Angie sighs as she leans back into her pillow.

“Have you eaten anything,” the bed jostles as Peggy leaves, already on a mission. “You should try to have some soup at least or-“

“-tea?”

“Smartmouth,” Peggy grumbles good-naturedly as she turns back to the bed.

“Awwww, you like it,” Angie murmurs as she leans back further, pillow encasing her whole head.

Peggy makes her way back to Angie’s side. “I should let you rest.” She flinches slightly when Angie’s fingers entangle with hers.

“You still didn’t tell me about your day, English.”

The tension in Peggy eases away like the last drops of a wonderful batch of coffee, rich and delicious. She grips Angie’s hand back and a fondness peeks at the edge of her lips until she finally smiles. “Alright, since you insist.”

It was a bit strange, Angie thinks as she begins to drift back to sleep. For a moment she saw a Peggy Carter that undoubtedly not seen the light of day since before the war. She was gentle in a different way, unafraid and terribly honest. A soft touch to her hair and her closed eyelids manages to lull her into a deeper peace and the last thing she could make out was Peggy’s voice:

“…and then I found you.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Everything about this was cliché: the waterfront warehouse, smoky docks, a general sense of unease.

“Hey, English.”

Peggy whirls around and it seems like she does it in slow motion. Angie shouldn’t be here, Angie shouldn’t be looking like she blended in with the night, her stance predatory to match the gleam in her eyes.

She was afraid and the notion that she’s never supposed to feel that way around Angie roots her to the spot, allows Angie to stalk over to her.

Something foreign stirs within Peggy, more urgent with each breath she took, every inch Angie grows closer. An explosion inside of her chest, perhaps- a tempo just like a dance.

The brush of her lips against the shell of Peggy’s ear was delectable and forbidden. Her heat, the puffs of her breath lining her ear were sinful.

“Hail Hydra.”

Peggy jolts awake and instinctively grabs her gun and levels it, wildly scanning her room for threats. Her chest heaves even as the tears pour down her face, freezing and unbidden.

“Not Angie, not her,” she begs to the darkness and sets the gun down and curls into her bed and attempts to calm down the paranoia racing throughout her mind.

She has been spending more time with Angie as of late, in light of Howard’s betrayal and the need to escape a mess of her own ego and bitterness. She had done what she believed was right, like Steve would have done, and her blind devotion to that ideal had caused her to miss what was in front of her eyes.

Was this the case with Angie as well? Peggy was accosted the other night as she was making her way home after a late night at the SSR. Who else would know her schedule so well?

Perhaps Angie was a spy as well, sent to infiltrate Peggy’s life and to…

Peggy slowly sits up. No, she had that dream because of Howard’s betrayal. Angie was chosen because she was the dearest to Peggy. She glances at the portrait on the wall covering up the location of Steve’s blood. There certainly was a pattern to her behaviour but it wasn’t linked to her relationship to Howard.

It was to Steve.

The discovery hits Peggy harder than a direct hit to her solar plexus. Guilt inundates her as she realizes the truth of her feelings.

Decoding ciphers on the fly, analyzing obscure strategies, seeing through all attempts at inveigling, these and more came naturally to Peggy. Complex situations could be solved with nothing but skills and determination.

As she gazed at the wall, Peggy wasn’t sure she was equipped to reconcile this problem that had occurred so insidiously under the veil of affection.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Angie tries not to mope around the diner, she really does. Peggy has been gone for two weeks and the last time she saw Angie, she had bit off a terse statement that she was going to visit relatives and practically jumped out of her skin when Angie tried to hug her goodbye.

She was _sure_ she hadn’t done anything wrong. She had mulled it over during dinner with her family until her Ma had called her out on not eating anything and breaking her heart and what kind of child had she raised that wouldn’t appreciate all the hard work her loving mother had done to prepare this meal?

Despondent at the diner? Nope, that wasn’t Angie, not anymore. She was mad now. That dumb woman, running more hot and cold than the piping at her first apartment. Angie has been nothing but a great friend and she’s sick of how one day Peggy Carter is the shining light of her day and a rain cloud of gloom the next.

The chimes of the door ring and she snaps to attention with a stupid excitement in her chest only to see Mr. Shoulders entering the diner, no doubt looking for Peggy.

Angie’s face transforms into a scowl. It was nearly closing and he was striding right towards her with a nervous expression on his face.

“Uhm, excuse me, Miss Martinelli, but I would like to inquire after Miss Carter?”

Arms crossing of their own accord, Angie glares sullenly at the man who wilts instantly. “So you know my name, huh? Peggy hasn’t told me yours. I don’t know, she doesn’t care enough to tell me anything anymore.” A thought occurs to her and she steps into his personal space and stares him down, the audible gulp bolstering her. “Did you do something to upset her? I don’t know why you two think that nobody knows about your secret little rendezvous here. It’s so obvious.”

Shoulders starts glancing around like a little rabbit and wrings his hands and tries to step backwards but Angie follows him until he slams into the edge of a booth. “I can assure you I’m a happily married man and I have done nothing untoward to Miss Carter!”

“That’s what they all say,” Angie growls and pokes him in his chest several times. “She skips town and then you start coming to me for answers? I knew it wasn’t anything I did! I don’t care that you’re married or anything else, if I find out you’ve done anything to hurt her—“

He puts his hands up and looks into her eyes finally and she tries to discern his sincerity. “I swear to you that I have not harmed Miss Carter in any capacity, I am simply worried for her well-being. And,” now he glances around furtively, like Angie or maybe even Peggy herself would jump down from the ceiling and beat him senseless. “Miss Carter cares deeply for you, even if she has trouble expressing it.”

The statement knocks the wind right out of Angie’s sails. “Probably some dumb British reserve, huh?”

“In a way,” he answers and he’s almost as annoying as Peggy.

Angie holds out her hand and he glances at it, confused. “Gimme your card, Jeeves, I’ll let you know when she comes back. But don’t think I don’t have my eye on you,” she threatens as he fumbles around in his coat pocket to produce the fanciest calling card she’s even seen. “Now get out of here, we’re about to close.”

“Thank you,” he says after a moment and maybe Angie is a little convinced that he and Peggy aren’t doing the deed on the sly.

She’s still pondering that encounter on her way home waving away Iowa’s greetings and glancing at Peggy’s door for a moment as she unlocked hers and sighs, entering and closing the door behind her.

“Hello, Angie.”

She yelps in surprise and throws herself backwards against the door. There, sitting nonchalantly on her bed as if absolutely nothing had happened in the past two weeks was Peggy Carter, elegant robe and drink in hand.

“You broke into my room!” Angie whispers heatedly, willing away the pounding in her chest and decidedly not looking anywhere other than Peggy’s eyes.

“I did not,” Peggy fibs outright. “It was unlocked and I put the lock into place after I entered.”

The woman was a bastion against truth, an enigma boasting and seducing all the same.

As much as it irritates Angie, it excites her just as bad.

“Sure thing,” she drawls walks closer to the bed.

Peggy Carter was always in control. From the way she smiles: it begins in her lips, a slight restriction and delay and then she allows her eyes in on the feeling but they were like those blinds, where they only let a portion of the light in.

“I owe you an apology,” Peggy begins and stares at Angie like she’s trying to figure out a puzzle. It’s thrilling and nerve-wracking to behold. “I’m a dreadful friend, and I haven’t treated you properly.” She looks away forlornly for a moment and then sets her glass down on the bedside table. Her fingers twine nervously and Angie discovers she likes the feeling that she makes a woman such as Peggy nervous. “There is so much I want to tell you but I just can’t. I don’t want to lie to you, I just…” she looks up at Angie, all glassy-eyed and sincere and she feels the last bit of her anger crumble away and she sits down next to Peggy.

“You’re like a shield, Pegs. You hide behind it, all your truths, all of you.” Peggy looks miserable and nods, accepting her shortcomings and Angie sighs. “You’ll have to tell me all about it someday.”

Peggy gazes at her intensely and it sends a flush throughout her body. “Someday,” she promises and Angie believes her. “You’re far kinder to me than I deserve.”

“I’m a saint, I know,” Angie quips and Peggy emits a watery laugh.

Something changes in the air between the longer they keep eye contact and Angie has a sinking feeling that she’s walked into something over her head but she can’t help that she’s a romantic and the way Peggy is looking her over is enough to ward off any doubts that she is a forever kind of girl. Peggy reaches for her cheek slowly, giving Angie time to back away and she finds herself reaching her decision quickly, no qualms. Her fingers ghost to and fro across Angie’s skin, still a secret even now. Her feelings hidden and locked away, sealed up, tender thoughts and feelings that no one could ever know.

“Don’t you dare kiss me until you mean it, Peggy Carter,” Angie breaks away from the seduction of breath. “Once you’re good and ready to be with me, every tiny thing and every way, then you can kiss me ‘cuz then I’ll know you’ll truly mean it.” She brushed her lips at the edge of Peggy’s mouth and the tremble of the other woman’s lips against her cheek was nearly enough to do her in.

The tenderness in Peggy doesn’t splinter away like Angie thought it would and she acquiesces softly and boy was Angie in for it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Peggy’s disoriented when she comes to. It’s chilly and wet and she feels like vomiting. Breathing hurts and opening her eyes is a struggle.

She was in deep shit.

Now Peggy isn’t the sort to believe in superstition or clairvoyance but when she registers the awful stench that’s typical of a seedy wharf, she immediately recalls her nightmare of several months ago and pleads with whatever could be listening that she doesn’t open her eyes to Angie. Straggling bits of memory start to fall in place: she was standing outside of the diner, about to go in and offer to walk Angie back to the Griffith, a sound of heels and a whiff of gardenias and a handkerchief being stuffed under her noise, and, by the feels of it, perhaps a lead pipe to her skull. The stickiness in her hair could be attested to dried blood. The rest of her senses fire back up slowly: the cool metal on her wrists and ankles, the dizzy sensation that she was likely drugged as well and her body shaking due to chills and blood loss.

Yes, definitely deep shit.

_Bollocks_.

“I would say that I’m surprised that you came to so quickly but unlike your peers, I have never underestimated you, Peggy Carter.”

Despite the ache she obtains from the action, Peggy’s eyelids fly open and she struggles to a sitting position, something defensible at least. “Dottie!?” She’s ever so perplexed and grateful it wasn’t Angie (but she was taken in front of the diner, it’s no secret that she and Angie were close, what could Dottie have done?)

Dottie, even if that was ever truly her name, smiles down at Peggy in a way that makes her blood curdle. It’s a facsimile, painted on the face of a porcelain doll, void of everything organic. “Leviathan no longer has any use for you.”

“How do you mean?” Peggy attempts to keep eye contact and struggle against her bonds but damn her, Dottie has ensured there were far too tight to just break apart and this woman is clearly too cunning to be lulled into a false sense of security.

She was well and truly at a disadvantage and it has been a very long time that Peggy was in a situation that she could see no viable alternatives.

“You’ve helped us infiltrate and scatter the SSR, of course. You’re a credit to your organization. Truly a pity to see your life cut short,” she tuts and grabs Peggy’s chin to chastise her as if she were a disobedient child. She grips harder when Peggy attempts to head-butt her. “Now, now, none of that.” Dottie backhands her soundly and shoves her roughly back to the ground. The shoddy planks of the dock scratch painfully at Peggy’s back and the pain is exacerbated when Dottie grabs the chains binding her ankles and drags her bodily across the dock until she reaches the end.

Heat and terror erupt all over Peggy and she struggles as best she could. Infiltrating the SSR could only mean Ivchenko has been sowing whatever nefarious scheme Leviathan has concocted throughout the office. She fell for it and that thought galls her more than the looming threat of drowning.

“Try not to take too long,” Dottie taunts as she lifts Peggy up by the ankles and heaves her over the edge.

The icy plunge suffuses Peggy worse than the first time she took swimming lessons, more than every plunge into the ocean during the war. She twists and turns trying to break her shackles. Throwing Peggy by the chains loosened the ones around her ankles but they still were tight enough that she couldn’t shake them off quite yet. She needs her hands but they are so weak and she feels so frail and thoughts of Steve pour into her like a sieve.

Was he this frightened?

Did it happen quickly, or did he feel the cold as surely as Peggy does now? Perhaps he was thinking about how to dance and compliment her dress, as surely as she thought while waiting that Saturday night.

It was fitting in a way, she supposes as she sinks further into the inky depths. Fitting that she ends the same as Steve.

The memory of her teaching him how to throw the shield comes to her unbidden.

“ _You’re like a shield, Pegs.”_

No.

**No**.

Steve did not die to save her life and countless others for them to have a miserable existence, or for her to wallow in pity and misery and allow death to come to her. He wouldn’t want that for her. Angie wouldn’t want it, either.

And Peggy Carter most definitely does not want that for herself. She wouldn’t be licked by someone who hadn’t the guts to engage her in a fight and she will certainly not allow her mistakes to bring down her and the organization or the country that she believes in so much it hurts.

It takes a bit of maneuvering but she manages to start kicking at her wrists until one of them snaps. The burst of pain forces her mouth open and what little she has left in her bubbles out from her lips as she shakes free from her wrist shackles. Her unbroken hand shoots up and weariness is fogging her vision.

She can’t lose. She refuses.

A hand suddenly clenches her and a well of adrenalin unleashes and Peggy and she assists her rescuer best she can as she’s pulled to the surface. Her lungs burn fiercely as her mouth opens to gasp in air in great gulps and she leans gratefully into another as she’s pulled to the dock once more. She grips the post as soon as it’s within reach and her saviour hefts themselves up and then reaches a hand down to her. The delicate red strikes Peggy more surely than the bullets that managed to hit her.

“C’mon, Carter,” Angie growls as she bends down to shoulder Peggy up to the surface and falls back along with Peggy once they are both on the solid wood.

Peggy coughs and is torn between fear and hope as Angie begins working at breaking her free of the rest of her chains. “How did you find me?”

“I saw you and your fancy hat outside the automat and when you disappeared suddenly I ducked down behind the counter and slipped out the back door. I know a hit when I see one,” Angie whispers heatedly.

“Wait, Angie, it’s not safe,” Peggy begins and lunges forward when she registers that Dottie deftly snuck up on them, having taken off her heels.

“Let go of me, Iowa!” Angie protests but starts wheezing when Dottie clenches a hand on her windpipe and lifts her off the ground.

“I was wondering how long it would take for you to arrive,” Dottie smirks and looks down at Peggy. “Disappointed that neither one of you saw my approach. And here I was, thinking you were skilled. I suppose that can be attributed to the lack of oxygen,” she muses aloud and Peggy is going to tear her limb from bloody limb.

The three of them turn as one as a tiny clink breaks through the choking sounds Angie is making. Peggy knows that small round device and she scrunches her eyes shut as the flashbang grenade crafted by Howard Stark exploded. She kicks off the chains that Angie managed to loosen enough and rises to her feet and lowers her head and rushes forward, praying that she’s not too late. Her head collides with what she hopes is Dottie’s body and she batters forward. Ten seconds she counts in her head and she pries her eyes open and sees that she’s got her arms coiled around Dottie’s mid-section so she lowers her shoulder and angles it below Dottie’s sternum and heaves for all she’s worth. They ascend several feet of the ground and Peggy starts pummeling Dottie and finally on their descent gets in the headbutt she’s been itching for and shoves her hands into Dottie’s shoulder so that when she lands with a sickeningly satisfying crunch, Peggy can roll to the side safely.

“Angie!” She calls after she ensures that Dottie Underwood won’t rise again.

“Peggy!” Angie answers frantically and her footsteps shake the entire dock as she races to where Peggy is catching her breath. She collides with Peggy and the pain is one that Peggy embraces.

“Miss Carter!”

“Peggy!”

The calls of Jarvis and Howard pry Peggy from the steadfast embrace but her uninjured hand stays on Angie’s forearm as if she were a life preserver. “What are you two doing here?”

Jarvis peers frantically over her and Angie and Peggy’s filled with fondness over his panicked state. “Miss Martinelli phoned me when she ascertained your final destination.”

“There’s a booth nearby,” Angie mumbles as she leans closer to Peggy.

“And thankfully I hadn’t gone off to bed yet so I was able to track down Mr. Stark and arrive here post-haste to assist Miss Martinelli in your rescue.”

Peggy shoots a suspicious glance between the two of them who wilt underneath it. “And just how did you happen upon meeting each other?”

Angie scoffs loudly and Howard outright chuckles at it. Peggy shoots him a withering glare but he remains unperturbed. “Jeeze, it was completely obvious you and Jeeves here—“

“Jarvis.”

“…whatever. It was obvious you two were in cahoots and I was looking out for ya and maybe sort of intimated him a little,” Angie huffs petulantly and shoots a disgusted glance at Dottie’s body and kicks it a little.

“Darling, she’s quite dead, there’s no need for that,” Peggy half-heartedly chastises her and grips her forearm a bit more possessively.

“And I’m here to take responsibility and so on and so forth,” Howard pipes up. “I got you into this mess and I’ve gotta get you out of it. And now that Miss spy here is out of the picture, I presume we’ve got a bit more work to do?”

“Of course,” Peggy sighs. “The SSR has been compromised. We need to return Angie to the Griffith and head to the agency straightaway.” She nods down to Dottie’s corpse and Howard and Tony move to pick it up and start hefting it across the dock to where their vehicle was parked. Angie gingerly slides her arm around Peggy’s waist and picks up her injured forearm and assists Peggy to the car silently.

The entire ride back to The Griffith is quiet in a way that reminds Peggy of Jeeps and smoke. Angie’s solid presence at her side dispels any lingering thoughts from those times and Peggy allows herself to just look at Angie and cherish this moment.

When they arrive, Peggy escorts Angie up to her room and uses their appearance to weave a brilliant story to Miss Fry that they were assaulted and Peggy broke her wrist and she was only going up to retrieve some belongings as she had to make her way to hospital.

The only lie was that Miss Fry presumed their attacker to be a man.

When they reach Peggy’s room she instructs Angie to remove the portrait and take out The Capsule with Steve’s blood in it. As she gazes down at the object, Peggy feels something twist inside her and knows that everything she belongs to is present in this room.

“Take care of yourself, Angie,” Peggy whispers and draws Angie in for an embrace, taking the time to feel the other woman’s heartbeat pressed against hers.

“You too, English.” Angie looks up at her and the acceptance and support she sees reflected there moves her so. She caresses Angie’s face and bunches her feelings as tight as the noose did. “Someday,” she repeats her vow and Angie gives her a watery smile.

She doesn’t look back as she leaves the room.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It’s a lovely monologue, Peggy acknowledges as she leans against a booth where Angie is regaling one of her regulars.

“I finally got a role!” She squeals after the older lady congratulates her. “My rehearsals start next week!”

“Well done,” Peggy offers by way of greeting and Angie turns so quickly she nearly falls.

“Peggy!”

The confluence of this moment had to be this place and none other. For over two months Peggy has imagined this moment, prepared what she wanted to say and do yet still the compulsion to stride over and kiss Angie is nigh unbearable. She tempers her excitement and walks normally over to a wide-eyed Angie. “If you’ve a moment, I thought I might tell you about me.”

Angie’s grin is the most comforting vision she’s had in a very long time. “Yeah, I got plenty of time.”

That’s how their first date begins and it was somehow a blur for Peggy, talking candidly about herself and relishing how closely Angie was to her, gripping her arm as they walked across the city, the sun dipping low into the sky as they made their way back to The Griffith and up to Angie’s room to relax with schnapps and the scratch of the record player.

It strikes Peggy how much she treasures this moment and this woman. Angie is telling her all about the play she finally got cast in and then she suddenly goes from flamboyant to serious and grabs Peggy’s hands and looks at her so that Peggy gulps loudly.

“I missed you,” she confesses.

Emotion chokes Peggy in a way she cherishes. She reaches for Angie slowly only to have Angie meet her halfway. Her knuckles stroke under Angie’s eyelashes, her cheekbones and her jaw until the fingers uncurled and her thumb fills the area between Angie’s throat and tendons. The rest of the fingers caress the soft fluff of hair on the side and back of Angie’s neck and flex slightly at the tremulous sigh that escapes the other woman.

When Angie opens her eyes and peers up at Peggy under delicate eyelashes the well bursts inside her. Ardor pooled deep within her chest and it was impossible to chronicle all the steps taken to this moment, all the glances, stolen and covetous, open and cherished. So Peggy pours every last ounce of that pool into the kiss while everything clenches and unfurls in her heart and sends ripples across her skin in an icy-hot trail.

Angie’s fingers wind in her hair, reverent and anxious. Every brush against her body erupts a new pit of desire, the sighs and laughs and smiles are absorbed into her mouth and refuse to stay in her throat, deny being shackled and bottled but to be free and joyous.

Kisses were meant as promises, words and actions that were craved throughout mind, body, and soul and Angie returns every touch and tender brush of lips with equal fervour and this moment affirms for Peggy that she was irrevocably tethered to Angie Martinelli forever.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“I need to lie down.”

“I think you’re overreacting just a bit.”

“I am not! Maybe a cool towel for my head. Whiskey. A massage.”

Angie huffs and continues to drag Peggy behind her. She was sweating up a storm and was a hot mess because _somebody_ had to dig in her heels like a mule, figuratively and literally, and who was super strong, like she could heft Angie with one arm even and she was allowing herself to get distracted again. “Margaret Carter it is hotter than hell out here and so help me if we show up to dinner looking less than presentable my Ma is gonna tan my hide and your fine British one!”

“I still think you could’ve sprung the news on me that your family is high up the ranks in the mafia,” Peggy grumps but acquiesces and begins to walk on her own, only slightly dragging behind Angie. She grips Angie’s hand back though so her resolve was wavering. Angie smirks.

“Yeah well you’ve got your impressive indeterminate rank and you’re Director of a high-class intelligence operation. Which you still need to name,” Angie waggles a finger at Peggy as she slows her pace and then proceeds to fan her face.

Frazzled curls begin to droop around Peggy’s cheeks as she pouts. “I haven’t come up with a good enough acronym. It should represent the principles the organization is founded upon.”

Pausing, Angie turns to look at Peggy. Her face is flushed from the heat and her simmering rage and Angie can’t help but continue melting outside and in. “Okay, first of all, I didn’t tell you before because you have this tendency to bury yourself in research when something big comes up. I’m actually kinda impressed you haven’t dug up all sorts of things on me and my family.” Peggy just sort of glowers petulantly and mumbles something under her breath which Angie presumes to be something kind about her. At least it better have been. “I just want to introduce you to my family and they will love you like I do so there’s nothing to be nervous about. And why don’t you just think of what’s important to you and then make an acronym for that?”

She pauses when she becomes aware that Peggy is gazing at her with an inscrutable expression. It was that kind of intensity that makes a person sweat and be confused whether they should be afraid for their life or their virtue.

“Angela!”

Angie turns around and tries to let go of Peggy’s hand but the other woman’s grip tightened alarmingly fast. “Frankie! What’re ya doin’ sneaking out, Ma is gonna have a fit!”

Frankie puffs a little, his hair falling out of its slicked back place. “I brought ya a coupla cool towels, you’re almost late and if you think Ma is gonna box my ears for sneaking out and not yours worse for showing up like that, you’ve got another thing comin.” He glances at Peggy and gives her that stupid assessing nod he’s given every single person Angie’s been involved with. “Hey.”

Of course, Peggy’s spine is audible as it snaps into ramrod military stance. “Hello, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Her chin juts out in a calculating gesture and Angie wants to bury her face in the towel and laugh and cry simultaneously. “Angie tells me you’re taking up the mantle of the…family business.”

Nope. Angie is going to stuff the towel in Peggy’s mouth and only allow it to come out when Peggy takes thirds of everything her Ma made for dinner.

“And you’re the illustrious…secretary. Who convinced our sweet Angela to ignore our Pa’s suggestion that she go to secretary school and be a famous actress instead.” Frankie squints right back at Peggy and Angie swears she’s going to deck both of them as they continued posturing on either side of her.

“Yes she is, Frankie, and I’ll have you know that I’ve gotten my first role off-Broadway which I was going to say at dinner when Ma brings out dessert so you’d better act surprised!” He yelps as she snaps the towel at his arm and then smacks Peggy with it when she was off-guard grinning and being human. She dabs at Peggy’s face with the towel. “And you! Don’t be a smartass.”

Angie basks in the childish behaviour of the two people she loves most in the world and let it kiss her all over like the sun. It was a good thing she took the time to do so because those two jerks spent the entire evening poking fun at Angie, telling stories of every time she sassed someone or beat someone up (to which Peggy was shooting her bedroom eyes over, criminies) and Peggy generally being socially awkward as the family treated her like she had been with them always.

When they get home they are both giddy from good food and wonderful times and Peggy draws her in for a kiss. Peggy kisses unlike anyone else before her, neatly ensuring none would ever get the chance to match her. She was decisive with calculated passion dispersed in her kisses and dripping from her fingers.

(Later Peggy would inquire as to it came about that Angie’s family came to know about and be accepting of the fact that she liked women. It was an embarrassing tale but she had gotten caught with Frankie’s ex and he high-fived Angie and her father and the rest of her brothers wept with joy that they didn’t have to worry about Angie getting mixed up with some punk and Ma shaking the spatula and demanding grandkids one way or another.

“We’ve loved you since before you were born, Angela, and nothing will change that. Now you bring a nice lady home, not some shameless hussy, you hear?”

When Peggy heard that she got real quiet and had cuddled up to Angie, holding her tightly and whispered tales of her family that had passed and her brother’s two kids. And when Peggy thought she was asleep and whispered ‘I love you’ in Angie’s ear the first time, she pretended not to hear because Peggy wasn’t ready to say it aloud yet.)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Angie is wide-eyed and veritably bouncy as Peggy leads her through the bright hallways. She gawps openly as random agents scuttle by, some pausing to salute Peggy to which she reluctantly returns the sign amidst Angie’s gentle teasing and probing to inquiries about her official rank outside of Director.

The room they stop in front of has two guards at post and upon their arrival and scan, three more emerge from a hidden wall (“Fancy!” Angie twitters) to insert three separate keys to open the door. Peggy strides in, Angie hot on her heels and the door slams behind them with a steel finality that Peggy attempts to embody as they head to the lone object in the room, a table with The Capsule on it.

Peggy grips the folder in her hands tightly and wills the clenching in her muscles to calm down. As if sensing her distress, Angie places a hand on Peggy’s shoulder and rubs at it soothingly, simply waiting for Peggy to speak. After several minutes, Peggy feels sufficiently relaxed and feels an odd sense of emptiness as Angie’s hand leaves her shoulder.

“Thanks for bringing me to the office,” Angie starts shyly and then flutters her eyelashes ostentatiously. She can’t help herself and laughs to which Angie sways a little, triumph evident in her smirk.

“Considering all the times I’ve shown up at your work, I thought it was past overdue that you come to visit me.”

“Less ropes and red tape when you see me,” Angie remarks.

“Necessary precautions,” Peggy clarifies and Angie rolls her eyes good-naturedly. She clears her throat as her nerves begin to manifest again. “There are a couple of things I want to show you.”

“I have proper clearance?”

Peggy chides her with a stern glance but purses her lips to hide her smile as Angie’s cheeky grin grows. “I do. Several days ago you gave me a lot to think about.”

Angie’s breath catches and she pales. “Hey, Pegs, I didn’t mean to rush you, I swear my Ma didn’t mean it when she was talking about kids!”

“What?” Peggy flounders and she joins Angie in flustered agitation. “No, no, no, I, that is, I meant that you gave me a lot to think about for this organization’s name!”

“Oh, hah, hah hahah,” Angie stiltedly laughs and gulps loudly and peers around at the echo it made. “And?”

Biting her lip, Peggy hands the folder to Angie who gets a far-away look on her face when she glances at it. “You once told me that it was like I kept up a shield all the time. I love this country and the virtues I want to protect....there are things in this world I want to protect. People,” she says and straightens her shoulders as Angie glances up. “As you know, Captain Rogers was instrumental in helping shape me into who I am today, and I aspire to live up to his visions and ideals. He represented more than just a physical achievement but a personal one.”

One of the things that Peggy loves about Angie is that she’s utterly honest and open, two things that Peggy struggles with and values highly. In this moment Angie is an enigma, a cipher Peggy has no idea how to decode.

“You named this organization after me and Steve?”

She can’t really straighten her posture any more but Peggy tries anyway. “Correct.”

“Because we’re important to you?”

“Yes,” Peggy affirms and she turns and picks up The Capsule and opens it to reveal Steve’s blood. She gazes at it, something bittersweet pulling at her mouth and heart. She turns to look back at Angie to see her gripping the folder tightly.

“I see that sometimes,” Angie says and Peggy’s heart flutters. “That look, like it’s hidden behind the portrait of your every day, protected and bottled up. It makes me feel like an intruder, that I trespassed onto something intimate.”

Peggy’s insides plummet. “I was afraid to kiss you,” she blurts and Angie shakes her head a little. “I, I didn’t want it to end up like the last time,” and she closes The Capsule and sets it back on the table. She remembers the rush when she kissed Steve the first time: a mixture of exhilaration and fear. It was a horror that cropped up during the occasions she was close to kissing Angie for the first time. The fear was crippling, that she imagined the immediate loss of Steve happening to Angie as well.

It still scares her now.

Angie lets out a shaky breath as Peggy draws closer. “I felt like that until…”she averts her gaze and then brings her chin up and her eyes are determined. “…until I saw you look at me that way.”

Peggy grabs Angie’s hands and grasps them tightly to her chest, overcome with emotion that she feels she’s about to cry. “I love you,” she professes, impassioned. “You told me not to kiss you until I meant it, and I have loved you for a very long time, Angie. I hope you understand why it took me so long to say it.”

Placing a cool hand against Peggy’s cheek, Angie’s face softens and Peggy’s heart squeezes as gently as Angie’s smile. “Of course I do, honey. I know it doesn’t mean that you love Steve less if you love me too. I would’ve waited as long as it took for you.”

She cannot help but lower her head to Angie’s shoulders and let herself be held as she reiterated the sentiment over and over.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Her profession wasn’t one that brokered a lot of relaxation. Peggy knew this, and she wasn’t the type to bum around all day. She loved her missions, personal and professional.

This day just happened to be shite.

Angie was at rehearsal late and Peggy was mulling over how many necks she longs to wring and jaws that were begging to be broken when she hears the keys jangle in the lock and Angie blusters in, a swift gust of bitter winter chill attempting to follow in her footsteps.

“Brrrrr!” Angie yelps as she shoulders the door shut and painstakingly puts all the locks in place. “English, you got some extra tea for me? I just wanna go put on my pajamas and snuggle in bed and forget all about how cold it is outside and why I’m cold.”

“What makes you think I made tea?” Peggy inquires as she rises from the couch to plant a kiss on Angie’s cheek and recoiled from the cold of her skin. She grabbed Angie’s face and blew on her cheeks several times to Angie’s delight and got batted away so she could finish taking off her coat.

“Oh, please, you’ve got to have at least three cups of tea a day. Morning tea, afternoon tea, and special bedtime tea. I know all your ways,” she chuckles as she lopes off to the kitchen to grab her own mug. “You want some more?”

“No, thank you,” Peggy answers and brings her empty mug to the sink to rinse out. “I’ve a mind to go to bed straightaway as well.”

Angie pauses from pouring the hot water and scoots closer to Peggy to massage her shoulders lightly. “Tell me about it?”

“Feels so good,” Peggy mumbles before jolting back to reality. “Er, yes, I would like to tell you about my day as well, preferably once I have a bed nearby that I can flop onto. Why don’t you tell me about yours, first?”

“Sure thing,” Angie beams and grabs her tea and Peggy’s hand as they make their way to the bedroom. After Angie regales Peggy with a day full of two rehearsals and the simpletons in one and the absolute champions in the other, Peggy begins to recount her day and the utter morons she has to deal with and paces back and forth until she bumps into Angie. She blinks blearily down at her as Angie enfolds her into an embrace.

Angie dips her head so that her murmurs are planted under Peggy’s jaw. “Let go. Let me be here for you,” she requests, tongue brushing against Peggy’s pulse point.

Shivers of desire break out everywhere on Peggy’s body. The request isn’t as simple as this one moment, and Angie draws back and gazes at Peggy with an amalgam of patience and love and a hundred other things that make Peggy’s breath draw short. Peggy is dimly aware that she’s smiling as she reaches forward to brush her hands over Angie’s beatific face, starting at the arch of her eyebrows and fingers brushing the hair over and behind the shells of the ears to caress the neck. Her thumbs caress the underside of Angie’s jaw and Peggy is sure that her face reflects the same affection present on Angie’s. “Forever,” she declares softly, filled with the intensity inside her. “All my love.”

“Never a day or night without,” Angie declares and seals it against Peggy’s lips.

Angie lays a hand on Peggy’s hip with intent and the desire in the gesture burns through Peggy’s skirt. She presses against Peggy fully and she starts trembling, awash with arousal and affection. “I want you,” she manages to exhale between Angie’s slow, deep kisses.

She pulls back for a moment and looks at the woman in her arms, feels the heat emanating off her body and commits all the details to her memory. To cherish this instance deep within her and to call forth as a regular happiness, like the sun beating down on her skin after a long, cold winter. Verses and flowery prose from school flit around her head in broken bits and pieces, stitching together to be a part of Angie’s dress and to wind in her hair.

Ever since she was young, Peggy knew her first instinct to any situation was to plow right in and deal with the consequences as they came. When she saw a wall she would smash it down, along with any bloke who dared get in her way. She applies that same determination when she dives back in to kiss Angie, feels validated by the moans and gasps Angie emits with every caress and searching kiss.

They break apart giggling like school children, flushes high on their faces and Peggy’s breath is stolen as Angie takes the opportunity to grab her bottom and yank her tightly to her chest. “I’m gonna take you to bed,” she purrs and Peggy is giddy at the wickedness in her tone.

“Hmmm, you’re quite frail, darling,” Peggy dips her head to lavish Angie’s neck with her lips and tongue and relish the feeling of goosebumps along the skin.

“I’m an ingénue,” Angie declares and begins shuffling backwards and Peggy laughs as she winds her arms around Angie’s neck. Angie keeps glancing back with the earnestness of a puppy. Peggy isn’t quite sure she’s prepared for each new level of smitten she obtains with this woman. With a triumphant laugh, Angie’s legs thump against the edge of the bed and with a great heave she falls backwards and Peggy plummets after her with a grunt.

“That wasn’t a very sexy grunt,” Angie’s voice is muffled against Peggy’s shoulder as they are splayed haphazardly across the bed. Peggy blows a chunk of hair out of her mouth.

“Perhaps I was making sure you wouldn’t become battered on our trip to the bed.” Angie giggles and Peggy props herself up on her arms. “Those aren’t the right kind of bruises I’m going to be leaving on you,” she growls and gnashes her teeth against Angie’s neck while she squeals and squirms underneath her. She allows Angie to take her hands after only a few moments of tickling and curls her body deeper into Angie, settling herself between the other woman’s legs and becoming heady at the reaction that invokes. “Insatiable,” she whispers into Angie’s ear.

Angie’s whole body rises into Peggy as she kisses back in loud, fervid bursts. She unbuttons Peggy’s blouse with far too much ease, while Peggy was fumbling with the zipper on her skirt because she was simply overcome with exultation.

At the first press of their skin meeting, Peggy lets out the most serene sigh she can ever recall.

“I’ve got you,” Angie swears lightly as her fingers blaze a trail across Peggy’s body, every spot lighting up as an erogenous zone. Her breath is hot and comforting across every inch it traverses. An involuntary spasm racks Peggy’s entire body when Angie slides into her. “I’m not leaving you.”

And then Peggy stops thinking.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Jarvis, take my coat,” Peggy shoves the garment into his arms. “And create a distraction, I must speak with Angie before the curtain rises.”

Pulling a face, Jarvis shook his head. “Miss Carter, I do not need to cause a scene so that you may see Miss Martinelli, everyone here knows you. Look, Mr. McCartney is already waving you over. Now would you prefer Anthony to sit next to you?”

The thought of Tony Stark causes an indulgent smile. “Of course, he and Frankie do get along famously.”

“Ah yes, how could I have forgotten such a match forged in hellfire,” Javis grumbles, no doubt remembering one such recent incident involving his apron and bottle of gin, a paint brush and a pair of pliers. As he stalks away and shudders, Peggy knows that was the particular instance he was recalling.

“Hey, Miss Carter!” McCartney calls to her. “Angie’s in this room over here! It’s a good thing you’re here,” he earnestly leans forward and lowers his voice as Peggy approaches. “She’s got a real bad case of cold feet. I’m uh, sure those flowers will help cheer her up,” he coughs and throws her a wink and she condescendingly pats his cheek to both their amusement.

She raps several times on the door. “Angie, let me in.”

There’s a slight crash followed by many colourful curses and the door opens just wide enough for Angie’s arm to shoot out and yank Peggy through the opening before slamming it shut behind her. Peggy cracks her neck and rolls her wrist a little. “Peggy! I didn’t think you’d make it tonight, I know you’ve been trying really hard to catch some sort of assassin this past month.”

Even the garish theatre make-up couldn’t detract from Angie’s beauty, Peggy thinks fondly as she swoops down to plant a kiss on her cheek and stuff the flowers into Angie’s arms. “I informed them that I didn’t care who dies tonight, I would not miss your premiere.”

Her lover’s face relaxes for a fraction of a second, the frenetic look in her eyes banished. “Holy smokes, Carter, I’m supposed to be the dramatic one! And I have other performances, somebody dying is more important.”

Peggy frowns as Angie turns from her to plop on a stool in front of gaudy mirror, flowers from lesser admirers littered across it, to which Angie elbowed out of the way to reapply powder to her face. She considers that perhaps it would be best not to tell Angie that those were her exact words. “You are that important to me,” she clarifies vocally as she crosses the short distance to place her hands on Angie’s shoulders. She gazes at Angie’s eyes in the mirror until they lock with hers.

Angie seems to be at a loss for words which Peggy finds utterly endearing. “I love you,” she says softly and it resounds within Peggy, an echo traveling forever inside her until the end of her days. “You’re hardly ever afraid.”

Lowering herself to her knees, Peggy’s hands slide down Angie’s shoulders to grip her hands. She begins to rub her thumbs in the center of Angie’s palms and gazes intently up at Angie. “Darling, I’m just as susceptible to fear as you or any other. My fears have prevented me from many things in life. I share the same fears as you: that I won’t return at night, that something will happen to you because of me.”

“Ah, memories,” Angie jokes while Peggy feels the tension leave her body. “Honestly I’ve stared down worse.”

“True, but that doesn’t make any other fear less valid. This is important to you, I know you feel it inside you and everyone can see it. Just like you, I keep doing what I must, despite my fears and failures. We all love you and are so very proud of you,” she whispers and rises on her knees a little to meet Angie and lay their foreheads against each other. “I love you.”

“Thanks, English,” her voice warbles a little and Peggy leans her head slightly and softly kisses Angie and allows the moment to drag on, their kisses unrushed and delicate. When they break away she sees the stupidest grin on Angie’s face and knows hers is equally transparent.

It makes her feel invincible and young, and she honestly doesn’t give a damn what happens in the world tonight. Director Carter will never take precedence over Peggy Carter.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Peggy leans against the door, halfway between drunken stupor and crippling relief. Exhaustion seeps in her bones and to every nook and cranny of her body but the omnipresent flame in her heart grows fiercer with each second, being denied for days, only stolen moments fueling it. She turns the key in the lock as quietly as she can and crosses the threshold and, with grand effort, hefts her suitcase after her and closes the door. Letting out a sigh, she turns to begin the trek up the stairs but the location of where she dropped her suitcase mere seconds before eludes her and she clumsily entangles herself and collapses on the ground. A bloody calamity, Peggy swears and grumbles and then starts as she sees Angie blearily rubbing her eyes as she turns on the lights and shuffles down the steps.

“I apologize for rousing you, darling,” Peggy mumbles sheepishly as she rises, something crawling up her throat to catch and cave itself in.

“Just glad it’s you,” Angie replies with such a gentle voice and smile that ardor begs to leak from Peggy’s eyes and heart. “Didn’t feel like barreling down the steps to tackle a burglar.” She’s near the end of the steps where Peggy is gazing up at her with utter devotion, her hand gripping the rail.

“That would be rather reckless- what if the intruder had a weapon?”

Angie’s eyes open a little more along with the rise of one deliciously impertinent brow. “This coming from Ms. I Refuse to Dodge Bullets? I swear, Pegs, you have absolutely no personal regard for your own safety sometimes. Bullets don’t just stop within a five foot radius because of your sheer magnitude.”

Peggy pretends to ponder that. “They should all fear me.” When Angie clucks indulgently Peggy places a foot on the bottom step and places her hand upon Angie’s on the banister. “I assure you I exercise far more caution now than the heyday of my youth.”

“Pfft, that wasn’t so long ago,” Angie chides and caresses Peggy’s cheek with her other hand. Peggy’s eyes close and she breathes heavily and leans into the reality she cherishes. Hundreds of bullets and hours and miles built this moment in Peggy’s mind and heart and she has to remind herself that it isn’t a dream.

She savours the sensation for several minutes before it all bursts inside her. Angie yelps as Peggy grasps her wrists and lifts her off the steps and twirls her around a few times before burying her head in the crook of Angie’s neck, her arms gripping the smaller woman around the waist tightly, attempting to pour every ounce of affection into the intimate hold.

“I missed you terribly,” she murmurs against the skin of her beloved, the soft wisps of hair curling around her cheekbones.

Hands stroke the back of her neck and through her hair in response while Angie holds her tightly. “Missed you, too, love.”

Suddenly, Peggy becomes acutely aware that she hasn’t showered for days, her hair is in a scraggly ponytail and she reeks of bourbon and cigars. She begins to pull back but Angie can be awfully strong when she cares to be and her vice-like grip tightens even more and Peggy relaxes into the caress once more. “Apologies for the stench.”

“What kind of celebration?” Angie hesitantly inquires and Peggy falls in love with her even more. “The best kind,” Peggy assures and begins swaying the two of them on the spot.

“We managed to rescue all the Howling Commandoes- no casualties.”

This time Angie draws back but only enough to rest her forehead against Peggy’s. “That’s great news, sweetie. I’m glad to hear it.”

Peggy chuckles softly. “We’ll see if you stand firm behind that statement after you meet everyone. Dugan cannot wait to make your acquaintance.” War scenes and friends pool quickly in Peggy’s mind and the sting of Steve is finally not a painful thing and when she nudges Angie’s nose and captures her lips there isn’t a trace of betrayal to be found.

“Mmmm,” Angie sighs as she delicately consumes Peggy. “I doubt it’ll change. I even like Howard lots,” she giggles as Peggy growls and grips her possessively.

“I’ll have you know that he incurred my wrath when he commented that you ‘sounded nice.’”

Angie full on chortles at that. “Jeeze, Peg, hold your horses.”

“Stallions,” Peggy boasts as she presses her chest firmly into Angie to elicit a breathy gasp.

“Nobody does things to me like you do, and no one else ever will,” her fingernails scratch at the base of Peggy’s neck before winding their way up front and tugging on the lapels of Peggy’s uniform in tandem with the thumps in her chest and she sees that these outfits are going to be a staple from now on and then Angie surges into Peggy with the utmost fervor.

Peggy Carter knows she is a classy lady and that she loves the woman in her arms more than she thought she was capable of. But when Angie kisses her _just so_ , Peggy knows it’s her cue to utterly ravish her. Angie drags Peggy back until her body thumps against the nearest wall and Peggy feels it echo inside her.

Ardor ravages her and she transmits it through every caress and breath, peppers it with her kisses and breathes in every reaction it elicits. One of Angie’s legs ascends up to her waist and Peggy’s hands separate, one to the divot of Angie’s spine and the other to her rear to squeeze and lift Angie higher up the wall, her hips rolling slowly and with enough force to evoke a tremble that shudders throughout both their bodies.

Fleeting thoughts of romance fly right on out of her head while Angie reciprocates every moan that falls out of Peggy’s lips. This kind of romance isn’t one that Peggy wants that build-up for. She never wants to jet off on a mission she has little doubts will succeed and she never wants to see that knowledge on Angie’s face because she no longer has the capability to lie to Angela Martinelli. She doesn’t want to have to force her feelings away for such a long period of time, cloister them in the fears of her past and future.

She is going to marry this woman and damn the world that attempts to pry this desire and love from Peggy Carter.

Amongst the feverish touches and kisses, hot, wet gasps and pulse-pounding surges between them, Peggy swears she will never lose this one. She will lie, cheat, steal, blackmail and kill whomever she needs to keep another wonderful person in this world. Steve Rogers won’t be meeting Angie Martinelli for a very, very long time.

Peggy assures this with a trembling kiss pressed to the corner of Angie’s mouth as her pants subside. Languid kisses follow as Angie guides Peggy’s lips to her own and all other things get locked away for the reverence of her love takes precedence.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Hey there, English,” Angie’s entire body clenches and steels itself for the reply.

“I beg your pardon?” A shadow of the one she cherishes above all others gazes blankly back at her.

It was so unfair. The strongest person she knew should never be crippled like this, her own mind betrayed her. A life of secrets and sacrifices, love and despair, taking their toll on a woman who only lived and fought for what she believed in most. Nothing about it added up but the more she thought about, the more a strange buzzing took place in her temple.

Sometimes the man with an eye-patch would be standing outside the entrance to Peggy’s room and when he’d look up at Angie she would feel a wave of despair and anger but he would look at her with a compassion that haunts her.

There were things missing, from her mind and Peggy’s but Angie was no fool. She chooses to let it be because she would rather lose that than Peggy herself. That was more important, she tells herself as she searches Peggy’s eyes for something buried but not abolished.

(It has to be.)

“I’m Angie,” she says as she seats herself in the chair next to Peggy, the other woman’s eyes sharp in a way that was so familiar it cut Angie to the quick. “I come around to see the women here.”

Not truly a lie. She comes to see Peggy Carter, the woman who loved her, and Peggy Carter, the woman who never set foot in a diner one rainy evening and looked up at Angie with a promise of a million smiles and heartbeats.

Peggy detects the honesty and not quite a full truth with all the quickness of her youth. “Something appealing about me?”

Angie smirks as best she can without tearing up. A quick shake of her head fulfills both purposes. “Now what would make you say such a thing?”

“Well,” Peggy pushes herself up a bit more slowly than she wants, the frustration evident in the beautiful lines of her face. “You seem to be fond of me because of how you say ‘English.’”

“And how do I say it,” slips out of Angie’s mouth before she can stop herself. All of Peggy’s lessons and sweet reminders about her recklessness and Angie’s arched brow because really, as if Peggy could talk to her about reckless behaviour?

There’s a crinkling in Peggy’s brow, as if one of their thousands of shared memories is clawing its way out. The struggle is an exquisite pain and one that Angie knows she will never get used to, all these years doing nothing to ease the pain of having the most important connection in her life lost like a dead leaf dropping from a tree in the middle of a storm. Peggy’s eyes search hers for several long minutes, glistening with frustration and curiosity. “As if you loved me,” she utters with a finality befitting- no, Angie refuses to think further about that.

She licks her lips and reassures herself that the pain in her chest isn’t due to her tachycardia. “I hear you’ve got a date soon!” The smile and tone is one she practices now. It used to come to her so simply, like back in the days of the diners and theatre but she always had trouble faking anything for Peggy. “Brought some nail polish that I know is going to look aces with your dress,” she gives a conspiratorial wink and there it is, English’s stiff upper lip, the arching of her back in the prim way that tells Angie, I’ve got an image to maintain here and how dare you know my secret joy.

“I wasn’t aware my social life was so widely known,” Peggy grumps and Angie bites back her grin to an acceptable level. She gingerly takes Peggy’s hand and the nostalgia and affection gently crash over her and now it doesn’t hurt so much to be here.

Angie dutifully applies the polish, not as swiftly as she used to-her hands shake for different reasons now. She makes small talk with Peggy, knowing precisely when to shift topics and when to press and how to ease a subdued smile out of the woman and every once in awhile a genuine one so bright that Angie forgets everything else and it’s like the first time Peggy asked if she could tell Angie about her day and the tears in her eyes that framed the edges of her smile melted Angie in a way she knew she would never get over.

She makes a perfunctory blow on the last nail and inspects her handiwork. “I’ve still got the touch,” she chuckles and looks up to have her breath catch in her throat as Peggy stares intensely at her. Angie begins to move away from Peggy but the tips of the other woman’s finger twitch and the slight movement welds Angie to her seat and she readjusts her grip.

They sit there and Peggy begins to gently rub the inside of Angie’s palm like she used to and the sun is setting through the window and Angie notices all the colours changing and the sight is enough to nearly make her tear her eyes away from Peggy but she made herself a promise a long time ago that she would never look away from Peggy no matter what.

And so Angie stays there long after her legs fell asleep and that dumb tingling in her feet went away and Peggy’s eyes slowly close and her grip slackens so Angie takes her turn to rub little hearts in the palm of Peggy’s hand. She finally rises and uses her other hand to gently trace Peggy’s face and smooth the hair into impeccable condition. Angie lays a lingering kiss between the other woman’s eyebrows and then leans her forehead there. “Night, English. All my love.”

She draws away slowly and nearly jumps out of her skin because Peggy just has to wake up and frighten her like always. Peggy’s fingers slide down to stretch on the underside of her wrist, the ghost of her fingertips against her tendons until they gripped hard enough that Angie knew they both could feel her pulse.

“Never a day or night without,” Peggy answers groggily and almost instantly falls back into a slumber.

It was alright for Angie to cry now, she tells herself.

When she feels ready, she gathers the polish and her coat and purse and makes her way out of the room to see Steve leaning against the wall. He doesn’t say a thing, just smiles at her and offers his arm. Angie leans gratefully into it as his head rests atop hers.

Tonight the ring on her finger feels as warm as it did the night Peggy placed it there.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Perhaps it was a bit dreadful of her to derive amusement from the frantic way Steve runs back into the room with Angie cradled in his arms when Peggy presses the emergency nurse button. It was a darling picture- she knew they would get along.

She reaches her hands out to the both of them and finally went a bit dizzy and cross-eyed when they gripped her hands. For a moment, she tells herself, she closes her eyes.

A lovely song starts up as Peggy opens her eyes. Angie and Steve were chatting away in the automat. He was sitting in her spot, though. They look up at Peggy and even their smiles were in sync, radiant and exuding the love within them. She raises a brown imperiously at Steve and he scrambles to vacate her seat, Angie’s tinkling laughter causing his blush to deepen. In a few strides Peggy was back in her rightful spot, Steve solid and warm behind her, his arm on her shoulder. Angie reached across the counter and their hands meet, the fantastic sound of their rings clinking together making Peggy’s heart beat harder, as always.

She closes her eyes, a gentle smile on her face and draws in a breath.

“I love you.”


End file.
